


Ours

by kikabennet



Series: Raising Yevgeny Milkovich [8]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cute Kids, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, M/M, Married Characters, Married Couple, Married Life, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikabennet/pseuds/kikabennet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the "Raising Yevgeny Milkovich" series. Ian and Mickey find out what family really means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ours

**Author's Note:**

> I know most of my chapters are rated T, but I've rated this one a little higher because of a particular swear word.

“Circle all the pictures of the things that start with letter B,” Ian explained as he and Yevgeny sat at the kitchen table doing Yevgeny's pre-kindergarten homework.

“Do you remember what sound B makes?” He asked him.

“Buh,” Yevgeny sounded out. “So I'm gonna circle the bunny, the bike, the bear, the boat...”

Ian nodded. “You got it, Bud.”

He stood up and moved to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. Mickey walked in through the front door in his grease-stained coveralls, chucking his keys on the kitchen table.

“You stink, Daddy,” Yevgeny said, grinning.

Ian laughed at Mickey trapped Yevgeny's head under his arm, grabbing him by the nose.

“Do your homework,” he said, releasing him. He stole a sip of Ian's water.

“How was work?” Ian asked.

“Sons of bitches can't do nothin' right,” Mickey complained. “I get on their asses every fuckin' day 'cause they can't keep their fuckin' eyes open.”

He took another drink of Ian's water. “They wanna make me Safety Coordinator.”

Ian smiled. “Mick, that's great. Don't they, like, make a fuck ton more money?”

“Yeah.” Mickey toyed with the bottle of water, trying to hide his own smile. Ian wiped a smudge from his husband's cheek with his thumb and then kissed his forehead.

“How was day?” Mickey asked in return.

“My AP class just started _Romeo and Juliet_ ,” Ian said. “My regular class is still on _Lord of the Flies_ , and I still wish I could be a teacher's assistant for ROTC all day instead of only four class periods.”

“The fuck does anyone need _Romeo and Juliet_ for?” Mickey scoffed. “Can't believe they still got South Side kids learnin' that shit.”

“Daddy, we're doing the letter B,” Yevgeny announced proudly. “And Ms. Shortt let us blow bubbles outside today.”

“And he was on blue all day,” Ian added.

In Yevgeny's pre-kindergarten class each child had a felt pocket on a chart. Depending on their behavior, a colored bear was placed inside of it. Red was Carl-level bad, orange was a little bad, yellow was so-so, and blue was the teacher didn't have to get onto them more than once.

“I kept my eyes on my own work and didn't fight with Zayne Gilbert,” Yevegeny explained.

“You're a Milkovich,” Mickey said casually. “That won't last long.”

Gavrel crawled into the kitchen and raised himself up to his knees, bouncing up and down. Mickey gave a loud clap-beckoning for the baby to come closer. Gavrel laughed and charged at him full speed, and Mickey scooped him up.

“And how was _your_ day?” He asked.

“Bah?” Gavrel squeaked.

“He started pulling himself up on the furniture,” Ian told Mickey. “And he's driving Debbie crazy. She said he pulls all of her stuff down from everywhere.”

On the days when Ian and Mickey had their boys, Debbie babysat while they were at work and picked Yevgeny up from school.

“Tough guy, huh?” Mickey said, bouncing Gavrel. He kissed his face.

Ian looked at Yevgeny. “You almost done?”

“I am done,” Yevgeny said, putting his worksheek back into his little green folder. “I circled all the Bs.”

“Let's get changed and get ready to go then,” Ian said.

“Goin' for a run?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah.” Ian nodded. “Wanna come? We can put Gavvie in the stroller.”

“Fuck that, Man, I'm beat,” Mickey said. “Me and Little Red will hold down the fort.”

“Okay,” Ian said. “Yevvie, go change.”

Yevgeny hopped down from the table and went to his room to change into a t-shirt, sweatpants, sneakers and light jacket. Ian helped him to tie his shoes, skipping the instructions as he normally did because they didn't have time and it would be getting dark soon. 

“Okay, we'll be back,” he said, holding the front door open for Yevgeny.

“Bye, Daddy,” Yev said.

“Have fun,” Mickey replied, setting Gavrel down on the floor to crawl away.

Ian and Yevgeny walked to the entrance of the apartment complex and crossed the street where sidewalks began. It was a nuisance to jog alone with constant crosswalks, but with Yevgeny, who tired easily, it was perfect. Ian jogged much slower than he normally would so Yevgeny wouldn't fall behind.

“Hi!” A lady jogger greeted, running in place beside them at the second crosswalk. “That your little brother?”

“Son,” Ian said, smiling politely and ruffled Yevgeny's hair.

“Oh, he's so cute,” she said. “Are you going to be tall and fit like Daddy?” she looked suggestively at Ian.

“My Daddy has tattoos on his fingers,” Yevgeny said proudly. “I can spell it! F-U-C-K-U-U-P!”

The woman gave them an odd look and jogged away quickly.

“Where's she going?” Yevgeny asked.

Ian patted his back. “Come on, the walk-man sign is on.”

Yevgeny always called the person shape on the crosswalk signal the “Walk-Man”.

They jogged about three more blocks and then Yevgeny gave up.

“I'm just too tired,” he pouted.

Ian squatted down, motioning for Yevgeny to climb onto his back.

“Do you care if I still run?” He asked, standing up, holding Yevgeny under the the backs of his long, little legs.

Yevgeny chuckled, familiar with the scenario. He wrapped his arms around Ian's neck and Ian hoisted him higher onto his back.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Yevgeny laughed.

Ian started jogging back the other way, Yevgeny plastered to his back. People on the street smiled at them as Yevgeny squealed with laughter, grabbing onto his father tighter when Ian would abruptly stop to wait on a light or a car.

“You doin' okay?” Ian asked him, panting.

“Yeah.” Yevgeny held onto him tighter. “Are we almost to the apartment?”

“Soon,” Ian said. “Yevvie, you're getting heavy, Buddy.”

“I have strong muscles,” Yevgeny explained. “Because I drink all my milk.”

“You're gonna have to carry me someday like this,” Ian said, taking a sharp intake of breath and dramatically grunting, which made Yevgeny laugh.

“How 'bout tomorrow?” He asked. “Daddy, I'll carry you tomorrow, okay?”

“Deal,” Ian said. “Let's get home. Check on our troops.”

“Our troops!” Yevgeny repeated, in the same drill-sergeant tone Ian was using.

“Our troops!” Ian said, in a deeper voice. “Left, right, left right, left!”

“Sing the song, Daddy!” Yevgeny commanded excitedly.

Ian began singing a song from one of his basic training days, one he'd sang to Yevgeny since he was a little baby.

 

\---

 

One quiet evening in the apartment, a knock sounded at the door, making Ian and Mickey exchange wary looks. Ian checked the time on his phone. It was almost nine o'clock and any time a Gallagher or Milkovich came over, they called or texted ahead of time.

“Let's see who it is,” Mickey said, after going to the bedroom and returning with one of his many firearms.

Yevgeny, who'd been lying on a blanket on the floor watching _Transformers_ with his parents-Gavrel crawling and rolling all over him, sat up and followed Mickey to the door. Mickey peered through the peek-hole and muttered, “Fuck”.

“Who is it?” Ian stood up too.

Mickey opened the door to Monica Gallagher.

“Hi, Honey!” She greeted, letting herself in and wrapping her arms around her tallest son. She kissed his neck. “Hi!”

“How did you find me?” Ian asked, pulling back a bit.

“Oh, Frank told me,” she said. “And then he told me about you getting married and a baby and-” she noted the two children. “Two babies!”

“Frank knows where I live?” Ian asked, staring at Mickey who scratched the side of his head with the pistol and shrugged one shoulder.

“I brought some toys,” Monica bubbled. “I've been staying with this nice couple-they have three kids of their own and they spoil them so much. They buy them new toys before the old ones have even come out of the package. Can you believe it?”

She dumped out a bunch of mismatch toys from a cloth bag she'd brought in. Yevgeny squatted down to sort through them.

“Did you go see Fiona and them?” Ian asked, still unsure of why she was standing in his apartment.

“Of course I did!” She said, her eyes big and glittering and intense. “But grandchildren! Oh, Ian.”

Ian couldn't help but soften a little at that. He loved showing off his kids. He moved to pick Gavrel up from the floor and Monica gasped as he passed him over to her.

“This is Gavrel,” he said. “We call him Gavvie.”

“He looks just like you!” Monica said quietly. “Ian, just like you!”

“Bah!” Gavrel babbled, slapping her face softly. “Bah! Bah! Bah!”

“Hello, my darling!” Monica giggled.

Mickey frowned at the scene. Ian beckoned for Yevgeny and picked him up.

“Who are you?” Yevgeny asked her, holding an action figure he'd plucked from the pile of toys.

“I'm your grandma,” she said, stroking some of his hair.

“You're not _his_ fuckin' grandma,” Mickey scoffed and Ian glared at him.

“Mickey,” he started, but Monica cupped Ian's face, shaking her head.

“It's okay,” she soothed. “Ian, it's alright.”

Monica ended up staying for a good hour, and then informed them that she was heading home. As she gave Yevgeny and Gavrel a few more hugs and kisses, she said, “I don't wanna miss my train.”

“See you 'round...Mom...” Ian said with some hesitation. He allowed her to hug him and give him a kiss.

After she was gone, he turned to Mickey and said, “Real fuckin' mature.”

He stormed out of the room, and Mickey followed him.

“What?” He defended. “That I didn't want your crazy-ass mother here? Ian, she was high as a fucking kite!”

Ian went to the bathroom and began to strip out of his clothes, preparing to wash his face and brush his teeth. He didn't say anything to Mickey.

“I can't believe you're mad because-”

“I'm mad because you said she's not _Yevgeny's_ grandmother!” Ian barked, angrily throwing his clothes into the corner of the bathroom where all of their dirty clothes piled up on the floor instead of the cloth hamper in the bedroom.

“What?” Mickey's brows furrowed.

“Is that what happens? They're our kids until crazy Monica flies into town and then what's mine is mine and what's yours is yours?” Ian demanded.

Mickey let out a short, breathy laugh, but not the ha-ha kind.

“Okay, so what if it was Terry that stormed in?” He countered. “And he fuckin' announced himself as Gavrel's grandpa? Huh? You'd just sit there and say fucking NOTHING?”

“That's different and you know it!” Ian yelled. “Monica is sick! Terry is fucking EVIL!”

“Your parents are just as shitty as mine so don't even!” Mickey yelled back. “I don't want your crazy cunt of a mother around our kids just as I sure as hell don't want Frank or Terry around them either!”

“You mean Yevgeny!” Ian said.

“I mean both of them,” Mickey said. “Get your fuckin' head on straight, Ian. Grow the fuck up!”

He stormed out of the bathroom and Ian slammed it shut behind him. Mickey went back into the living room to find Yevgeny sitting on the couch holding Gavrel in his lap, fear and desperation in his big, blue eyes. Mickey covered his mouth for a moment and then moved to collapse beside the boys.

“You okay?” He asked stupidly.

“Why are you yelling at him?” Yevgeny asked, starting to cry. He half pushed Gavvie onto Mickey's lap and tore down the hall.

Mickey heard him bang on the bathroom door and heard it open and then close again. He tried his best to ignore them, but finally-holding Gavrel, went back to the bathroom like a boomerang. He knocked on the door and Yevgeny opened it-Ian washing his face at the sink.

“Look, could we just drop it?” He said with a sigh. “Please?”

Ian towel-dried his face and stared at Mickey.

“I'm gonna put the kids down,” he said and said-still looking at Mickey- “Yev, come on.”

Like an obedient dog, Yevgeny trotted after Ian who took Gavrel from Mickey's arms. Mickey waited a few seconds and then followed them to the boys' bedroom. Yevgeny was changing into his pajamas and Ian was stripping Gavrel.

“Fuck, Ian,” he said. “You're acting dramatic.”

“Do you wanna sleep on the couch or should I take it?” Ian asked instead.

Yevgeny jumped up and down in his underwear.

“I wanna sleep on the couch!” He said excitedly, thinking some kind of adventure was about to go down.

“I'll take the couch,” Ian said, moving past him.

\---

 

Ian woke up the next morning hearing rustling around in the kitchen. He figured it was Yevgeny digging around for cereal or Poptarts, but when he got up and wandered into the kitchen, he saw it was Mickey holding Gavrel with one arm and fixing a cereal bottle with his free hand.

“Hey,” Mickey said, barely glancing his way.

Ian wanted to get angry again, but he couldn't find where he'd mislaid his anger from the night before. He stroked Gavrel's cheek, making the baby smile and slobber.

“I didn't mean to say _his_ like that, okay?” Mickey finally said after several seconds of silence. “I meant both of them, I just said Yevgeny because she was talking to Yevgeny and I always think of Yevgeny first because he talks and shit. Gavvie's still like a piece of furniture, you know? Once he starts bitching I'll remember him faster.”

Ian couldn't help but manage a small smile at that. Mickey saw it, and smiled back, staring at the bottle he'd just mixed up.

“You hungry, Man?” He murmured to Gavrel. “Ready to eat?”

“I don't really want Monica in their lives either,” Ian admitted. “But I need to know something.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“I love Yevgeny,” Ian said slowly, meeting Mickey's eyes. “I consider him mine-ours, and Gavvie too, but I need to know you feel the same way.”

“Yes,” Mickey said. “Ian, what the fuck-yes.”

“I know we had a whirlwind relationship and married fast and married young,” Ian said, moving to sit down in one of the kitchen chairs. “But we're not playing house here, Mickey. This is our family, our life, and I want to make sure we're on the same page when it comes to the boys.”

Mickey sat down in the chair next to him, turning it so the chair was pushed out and his and Ian's knees were almost touching.

“They're our kids,” he said softly. “Yours, mine, 'Lana's...but I don't want them to be Frank's or Monica's or Terry's. Fair?”

Ian nodded. “Fair.”

“Good.” Mickey gave him a quick kiss before standing back up. “Fucking sleep in your bed tonight.”

“Our bed,” Ian told him.

“You know what I meant,” Mickey said, flipping him off. “I have to get ready for work. Can you feed this bottomless pit?”

Ian took Gavrel from Mickey, a half smile on his face.

 


End file.
